Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 15: Rude Awakening* * * * * *


The sudden, piercing sound breaks the quiet in the room, causing both Buffy and Spike to jerk straight up.

“Phone. Not my heart bursting out of my chest...it’s the phone!” Buffy scrambles off the floor, remembering Willow’s admonishment to ‘answer the phone this time’. She snatches the phone from the cradle by the couch and almost yells into it, “Hello!?”

“Buffy? You ok?” W” Willow’s concerned voice comes over the line.

“Sure, I’m fine. What’s up?” Buffy strains for nonchalance, while she waits for her breathing to slow. She notices it has gotten dark outside as she focuses on the high-pitched voice.

“Buffy...are you naked!? You sound naked!!”

“Me, naked? Heck no, Will.” Buffy shakes her head furiously at Spike, who threatens to burst into laughter. He settles for a low chuckle as he surveys her completely nude body from his position on the floor. She scowls at him as he raises his eyebrows at her suggestively. Buffy puts her finger to her lips, hushing him as she tries to listen to the rambling of her best friend.

“Wait, what did you just say?” Buffy’s eyes widen and she feels her stomach drop. All the air in the room disappears in one breath.

“I said, it’s magic! The thing with you and Spike! Definitely magic. I figured it out!” She can hear the note of triumph in Willow’s voice, can see her proud face in her mind’s eye.

“Ma..magic, you say? How can you be sure?” Buffy’s eyes dart away from the questioning look on Spike’s face. Her voice drops. “You mean, something or someone is making us act this way?”

Spike frowns as he picks up every word, despite her whispering. Magic, huh? His body goes cold...colder than normal. He wondered if it was magic, but he felt so different today. She pretty much admitted that she did, too. If it’s magic, it’s some serious mojo to completely fool them both. Spike studies the floor, confused. He should be relieved. Relieved because this thing with the Slayer would never work. He looks up to see her fidgeting on the phone, the early evening moonlight washing her body in silver. Somehow, he doesn’t feel relieved. She seems very nervous and he notices she is becoming more and more self-conscious about being naked. She pulls another throw from the couch and wraps it around herself. He knows the Slayer well enough te the the walls going up. Buffy is shutting him out. It is almost palpable. She appears to be taking the avenue Red has opened for her. The escape from bizarre emotions and a soul-less vampire. Her words are tremulous, her glances at him furtive.

“Are you serious, Will? Did you just say Cupid?”

“Yes, yes. Once I had exhausted demon research, I started thinking about fairy tales and mythology. Not the first time something from the storybooks has come to bite us in the butt, right?”

“Right.” Buffy looks at Spike briefly. There is a noticeable tension building in his previously relaxed frame. Is he glad to hear it was magic all along? Will he take this chance to bolt?

“So, I hit on Cupid! Cupid was...well, is notorious for meddling with human lives. For kicks. I found all these stories about him. And it would be funny to a god to make a vampire and the Vampire Slayer jump each other’s bones, right? The whole opposites attract, love/hate dynamic, see?”

“Yeah, funny.” Buffy’s voice is hollow. Every one of Willow’s hyper words is a slap in the face. Was this feeling she was starting to have for Spike someone’s idea of a joke?

“So, I hit the books with a vengeance, found out about his arrows and the chest pain you had and Buffy - here’s the best part!”

“The best part.” Buffy can’t find anything to do but repeat Will’s last words as she feels herself getting sadder and sadder.

“It’s just temporary! Sounds like he hit with you some lusty arrows and they should wear off in, like, 48 hours. Should be feeling like your normal Buffy self very soon. Fully wearing clothes and no more Spike!”

“No more Spike.” Buffy is facing the window as these words fall off her tongue. Too late, she realizes what she’s said. The series of phrases he’s just heard. The sudden movement behind her reminds her. By the time she turns, he is halfway up the stairs. The day is shattered.

“Will...Will!” She manages to cut off the stream of words for a second. “I have to go. I’ll get the details from you later, okay? Promise.” Without waiting for a reply, Buffy cuts off the phone and tosses it to the couch, heading for the stairs. She stops at the bottom, staring up. Her heart races. What is she going to do? Follow him? Ask him not to go? He’s leaving. Definitely. He must want to get as far away from her as possible ‘til the mojo wears off. Why is this upsetting? It’s magic. Some damn god is pulling their strings, making them feel these things, making them want these things that are so wrong. Better to let it subside. Better to let things get back to normal. Hah. Normal. What is that like? A sudden thump on the stairs freezes her, throws her heart into her throat. He is standing at the top of the stairs in his black leather pants and boots. His chest is thrown in carved relief by the dim light and she finds it hard to breathe. Her eyes move up to his and the feeling worsens. There is nothing. No spark, no passion, no playfulness. His eyes are dead. Setting his shoulders, he clomps down the steps.

“Sounds like I should get going, Slayer. Good for Red for figuring it out. Smart bird. How long did she say it would last?” He avoids her gaze now, grabbing his shirt and duster from the hall floor.

“Um, 48 hours or so. I mean, she doesn’t know exactly...”

“Right. So we should be right as rain by tomorrow night.” His dark blue eyes lift to hers and she nearly gasps. She was wrong. That deadness was a veil, one that is wavering. She swears there is pain, but he looks away again before she can be sure. He turns to the door, grabbing the knob.

“Spike. Wait.” Her hand rests on his arm, stopping him in mid-motion. He hears the pleading note in her voice and wonders at it for a moment.

He doesn’t turn. “Slayer, don’t. It’s magic. We should just be happy it will go away.” Spike snatches the door open and heads off into the night. Her hand drops to her side.

Words fail her. For once, actions fail her as well. She just watches him leave, torn and confused. Willow is seldom wrong about these things. Even if it sounds funny that Cupid is involved, it’s not the strangest thing that has ever happened in Sunnydale. Makes sense that these feelings were false. I mean, it’s Spike. She hates him. Right? So why does it hurt so much?

Spike resists the urge to look back, to see if she is still standing there. If she called out, he would probably run back and grab her into his arms again, but he knows better. That is not the Buffy way. Somehow, all this will be his fault tomorrow. She’ll wake up in her sex-wrecked house and wish him dusty all over again. And he’ll...he’ll want her...dead again, too. Spike struggles to even think it. “Bloody fuckin’ hell. This is why I hate soddin’ magic.” He wipes a stray tear from his face with the back of his hand and breaks into a run for his crypt.

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Cupid rests his hand on his chin, watching the lovers separate in the early, cold evening. Psyche comes up behind him and gently places her hand on his sher. er. She reacts in surprise at the tenseness she feels.

“Darling? What is it? Are they fighting?” She glances down at the water and sees Buffy standing in her open door, shaking.

“No, not fighting. Not anymore.” He sighs. “They found out about me.”

“What!? You mean, they know you shot them?”

“Yeah. Apparently, one of her friends is a witch with considerable intelligence. She figured it out. And now...” He gestures at the water, taking in Buffy leaning on her open doorframe and Spike running through the cemetery. “It’s all broken.”

“Oh, sweetie. But we saw something with those two. Something beyond the lust spell, right?”

“Well, I thought so. I mean, I do have some experience in the matters of the heart.”

Psyche leans closer to the images in the pool, squinting. “Bring us closer to her, dear.”

Cupid looks over his shoulder at her quizzically. His gesture makes Buffy’s image fill the pool. For the first time, he sees the tracks down her cheeks. “Crying. I didn’t even see it.” Standing up suddenly, he waves at the pool again, bringing Spike into focus. “His eyes are wet as well! This is....fantastic!!”

Psyche looks slightly confused. “It is?”

“Yes, my love, don’t you see?! Emotion. They are both sad to know it was magic, though I prefer the term divine intervention. Anyway, not the point. Why would they be sad if they didn’t feel something, right? They are just not good at communicating with each other. Too much negative history.” He smiles widely at his sweet Psyche.

“So, what will you do?”

“Do? Nothing, I think. I’m resolved to let this run its course a bit longer. The last lust arrow should still be in effect, if a bit weaker now. Maybe it will help melt them. Bring them back together? Crying! Oh, these humans...and vampires are fascinating.” His eyes glint in excitement as he takes Psyche by the hand and leads her away from the images flickering below.